


Encounter

by CastielsCarma



Series: Destiel ABC [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Murder Husbands, Murder Meet-Cute, Serial Killer Castiel (Supernatural), Serial Killer Dean Winchester, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:00:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22657438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielsCarma/pseuds/CastielsCarma
Summary: Dean Winchester is on the prowl for someone to fuck and kill, in that order. He finds the perfect guy, but much to his annoyance another man is honing in on his intended victim.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean/Pax, Castiel/Pax, Dean/Pax
Series: Destiel ABC [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1559902
Comments: 15
Kudos: 71





	Encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BabysNotaProp (SuzetteB)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzetteB/gifts).



> =D This was born from a lovely prompt, thank you BabysNotaProp. 
> 
> I had so much fun writing this. Murder, sex, and blood, what's not to like?  
> I wrote this as a birthday gift, it's a tad late but happy birthday! *sprinkles and confetti* Love you!

Dean Winchester wants to kill the man. Sure, that is why he is in the bar in the first place, but right now his attention is on the _other man_ , the man trying to both cock block _and_ murder block him. Like he is some damn shield out there deflecting the murderous intentions of Dean and ruining his intended play toy.

The bartender walks confidently behind his countertop throne, chats up costumers and makes the patrons smile and laugh while mixing drinks. The beat and bleat of some pop star that is _all that_ right now escape the speakers but the sound is not too loud. Loud enough that it creates an atmosphere while also allowing the guests that order hamburgers, steaks, and fries to chitchat and eat in some semblance of peace.

It's not Dean's usual kind of venue but a man has to change things up from time to time.

The man Dean has his sights on is good-looking, a virtual vortex of charisma that pulls people in but so far he's been rejecting the advances of both men and women. Dean likes that, knows it to be a sign of challenge to come, both in seducing the guy but also in killing him. Nothing makes his blood sing than being able to combine his favorite past time activities of fucking and killing.

Kill two birds with one stone and all that.

But now this other man eyes _his_ guy like he wants to devour him whole.

As Dean angles his body he gets a better view of the intruder. He pulls his brows down in annoyance as his cock twitches to life. Dean writes it off as pre-kill excitement. The man is a sight to behold, dark messy hair, thick arms by the way the fabric of his shirt stretches around his biceps and a face that Dean would find attractive if the fucker isn't about to nab his guy.

The quick appreciation of the man's looks at least turns into something else as said man turns and looks Dean dead in the eyes. His eyes are too blue to be true. Dean wonders briefly if they'd be the same shade of blue when blood pools around him when he gasps for air or quivers in fear.

The man smiles as he slowly nods his head in acquiescence.

An old primal warning stirs in Dean as a rush of excitement goes through him. If the other guy is a vortex of charisma, the cockblocking son of a bitch is something else entirely. There is a darkness to him, one that Dean recognizes as his own. He reads people for a killing and begrudgingly he admits that he might have been too fast on reading this one. Sure, he's hot but he's no beach read it seems, more Lovecraftian with a darkness that pulses beneath.

Old unspeakable terrors, wearer of a thousand faces and devourer of screams.

Dean bites his lips as a million thoughts rush through him. If he is wrong, he plans to kill them both. If he's right... well, someone will still be killed.

The intruder guy gets up from his chair and walks over to Dean, raising an eyebrow. His gaze lands on the empty space next to Dean before his attention is on him.

Dean exhales through his nose in annoyance, looks over the man's shoulder to see his chosen still lingering in the bar. He's ordered another drink and nurses the newly mixed creation, seemingly in no hurry to leave the establishment.

Dean nods and the man takes a seat opposite him.

“Castiel,” the man speaks but his lips are on the verge of spilling other tales. Tales of darkness, horror, and pain. Dean is not sure how he knows, but it's something akin to an ache in bones, a feeling that resonates in his heart.

“Dean,” he says simply and Castiel smiles. Dean can see how he tastes the name on his tongue as if those four letters in that specific combination hold the key to unlocking a mystery.

There is no reason for small talks, and Dean has always found it exceedingly boring. “You have the hots for the guy over there? I doubt he'd be interested in you.”

“There is something burning when I look at that man yes,” Castiel says and he speaks low so that Dean has to strain to hear his words over the hum of the music and the murmur of the other patrons' voices blending together. He folds his hands in front of him, the very picture of a man at ease.

Dean is not fooled. “He's mine.”

Castiel smirks as his gaze linger on Dean. “Is he now? He seems to be oblivious to your existence. But that guy, on the other hand, he's been following you like a lost puppy all night long.”

An urge to stab Castiel suddenly overwhelms him, quickly followed by a desire to nail him with his cock, pound into him until that confident grin evaporates and only lustful moans and pleas remain. _Then_ he'd stab him.

On the other side of the bar, in the corner by a pool table, he can see the puppy waving. A scrawny guy by the name of Garth. A walking talking toothpick of a smurf that never seemed to shut up, smiled all the time and had tried to fucking _hug_ him.

They had talked once when Dean was there a few weeks back. He had contemplated giving Garth a blowjob and then blowing his brains out. Not his usual m.o. but with how the guy seemed so intense, Dean knew he'd never have the patience for even that. So he'd just left him and Garth had followed, insisting that he needed a hug so he knew they were good. After a constant barrage of mindless garbage Dean had consented and now they were apparently friends.

“Oh, that puppy. He ain't lost, Cas. I'ma call you Cas. You don't mind, do you?” Dean smiles and finally takes a swipe of the beer in front of him that was all but forgotten. “Nah, that guy, Garth, he ain't for me. Although I can't blame him for wanting a piece of me. Everyone does.”

There's a sparkle in Cas' eyes. He turns to look at Garth. “Mm, you are enduring. I couldn't go one minute without strangling the fucker. I bet I could wrap my hands all around his neck, squeeze and watch the life drain out of him.”

“Dude, what the fuck you talking about?”

Cas shakes his head. “You disappoint me, Dean, I thought you were beyond bullshit.”

Dean pushes the beer away, but he's high with the exhilarating knowledge that he is _right_. “You don't know me. And don't talk about disappointment. Strangling? What the fuck are you, some B-grade killer LARPing Scream?”

“They used knives.” His voice is smooth, tinged with amusement.

“What?” Dean is about to reassess his earlier appraisal of Cas. He will definitely just kill him, no fucking before.

“They used knives in Scream.”

Dean _knows_ that. But this is real life, not some Hollywood movie that definitely should have ended with no sequels, let alone three. Before Dean rebukes him – nobody talks to Dean fucking Winchester like that – Cas suddenly gets up, flashes Dean a smile and starts walking up to the bar.

Dean shakes his head and follows him. The sight of Cas' ass in those tight pants almost lends him to wave away Cas' insults. Knives. He'd show him fucking knives.

“Ah, Dean. Didn't expect to find you here. This is Pax.” Cas smiles pleasantly but Dean can see a hunger in the shadow that crosses Cas' face as Pax turns to greet him.

He has a friendly, open face, a short beard and his lips split into a smile as he takes Dean's hand. “Nice to meet you, Dean.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Pax.” He can see Cas roll his eyes but Dean is busy steadying his breath. His thumb lingers over Pax's wrist and the beating of his pulse makes Dean come alive. It's an exhilarating feeling to know that he cradles Pax's life in his hands.

A smile tugs at the corner of Pax's lips before he turns to Cas again. “Drink?”

Cas declines. “I'm not _thirsty_ for drinks tonight.”

Only years of training his facial expressions and his patience save him from bursting out laughing. That cheesy line can't possibly work. Sure, Cas is hot as hell, Dean will give him that but it isn't like that alone will absolve him from lame-ass pickup lines.

Pax is not far behind in the sexy-as-fuck league though. He's a tad overdressed with his crisp white shirt, and black tie – although a tie can come in handy in a lot of ways – but he's muscular, strong and a short beard graces his face. But it's the smooth, kissable lips that draw him in.

Dean's eyes ghost over those lips again before searching Cas' face. His lips are not as soft, but alluring nonetheless.

“No, you have something else in mind besides drinks?” Pax speaks softly but he's definitely teasing Cas.

Dean lands a heavy hand on Pax's thigh, squeezing hard. “ _We_ have something in mind.” Like hell is he going to let this one slip away just because Cas uses the most awkward line ever. Finders are not keepers in this game.

He can see Pax's eyes widen in surprise but just as quickly he licks his lips. Grabbing his drink, he hides a smile. The drink lands with a bang on the bar top. “Your place or mine?”

After finally deciding that they should all take Cas' car to his place, they'd talk about pie – Pax is a baker and passionate about what he does – and Dean memorizes several “secret” baking tips that Pax reveals. He almost feels sorry for wanting to kill the guy. Almost.

Cas mostly stays quiet, but his eyes talk way more. Dean is not oblivious to how Cas looks at them through the rearview mirror, and he is not imagining how that gaze falls most heavily on him.

Dean flashes a smile and rests his hand on Pax's thigh.

Just the small pause as Pax stops in his explanation of how to make a killer caramel filling is an indication of what Dean's touch does to him. That knowledge sends a thrill through Dean.

The power of touch has always amazed him. People are so malleable to touch and through it, Dean can provoke any response he pleases, whether it be one born from overwhelming pleasure or near blinding fear. They both give him what he needs in the end.

Pax licks his lips nervously as Cas opens the door.

Dean puts a soothing hand on the small of Pax's back and presses lightly, urges him to get inside.

Pax smiles and Dean's hand travels further down, gives his ass a light squeeze. Encroaching Pax's space, he speaks softly in his ear. “We'll take care of you. Just relax.” He brings his hand up, caresses his cheek and smiles when Pax's breath hitches.

The hallway gives way to an open living room and Dean takes in the bookshelves that reach the ceiling, the wooden floor and the soft couch facing an open fireplace. He'd prefer a TV but judging by all the books, Cas reads a lot. Maybe he's a librarian.

“I need... uh, where's the restroom?” Pax asks.

Cas shouts directions from the kitchen, probably already mixing some drinks or making hors d'oeuvres from scratch. Not that Cas has indicated that he's into to that specifically but he just hits Dean to be that kind of guy. One that is meticulous and neat and what are hors d'oeuvres but not neat and meticulous little food creations? But Dean knows that he'll be sating his appetite by hand anyway tonight. It's just that food won't be the main course.

As Pax leaves to refresh himself, Dean walks over to the books. Not that he believes that books reveal all about the soul but he finds it interesting that Cas has an unusual amount of books on _butchering_ of all things. Everything from modern books with glossy covers and high definition pictures of briskets, pork chops and spare ribs sprinkled with thyme to what appeared to be old vintage leather booklets.

“Like what you see?” Cas' voice ghosts over his neck, leaving a trail over shivers in his wake.

“Don't you think it's kind of obvious, Cas? I mean books about butchering, really? Let's proclaim it to the whole world, why don't you?”

Cas' hands wrap around his hips, pulls Dean to him so his ass is flush to his hard cock. “Takes one to know one.”

“Mm. So what's your plan?”

Cas grinds his cock against Dean's ass and chuckles. “I thought it was obvious.”

Dean turns, grabs Cas' by the hair hard enough that he winces. He grins when he sees the playful smile on Cas' lips and this close, his eyes are mesmerizing. “As long as I'll get a piece of him.” He kisses Cas hard on the neck and leaves trails of his desire all the way to Cas' mouth where he stops before tasting those gorgeous lips. Dean just hovers there and his eyes flit to the books.

“Mm, you'll get a piece of him, don't worry about that, Dean.” Cas' eyes turn cold but a darkness burns there, one that promises to eradicate him with pain and blistering horror.

Blood rushes to Dean's cock and he almost moans from the sheer eroticism of it all. He wonders briefly if this is how every man and woman sees him in their final moments. The thought makes his heart pound faster. “So, is that a literal piece or? A la Hannibal?”

Cas slowly unbuttons Dean's shirt while Dean strokes the sides of Cas' body. He feels the ripple of muscle underneath the fabric, the strength that coils underneath. Cas returns the kisses Dean bestowed upon him earlier, but they are slow, almost sensual in their placement on Dean's skin. They trail from Dean's neck, down his throat, stop to bite hard near his collarbone before continuing down to more exposed skin.

Dean hisses as Cas pinches one of his nipples. Kinky motherfucker, but he likes it so he doesn't chastise Cas.

“You think I'd eat Pax?” Cas chuckles but it's short, ends on an incredulous note.

“Butchering books. And your comment earlier about knives.”

“I'm no cannibal, Dean.” Cas leans in, bites hard on his nipple.

“Fuck,” Dean hisses. “You could have fooled me.”

“Already started without me, I see.” Pax's voice makes them both stop in their exploration of each other.

“Don't worry, Pax, you're the main course,” Dean moans under the continued ministrations of Cas' tongue and sharp teeth.

Cas eases up much to Dean's dismay. “After me.”

The light is dim in the bedroom, casting soft shadows on the walls. Dean quickly glances over what he thinks is an art painting on the wall – just a dark gray blob with shimmers of blue in it – before he smiles at the true art before him.

Cas has not been idle and has already removed Pax's shirt. His hands roam over the planes of Pax's chest, down his sculpted abs and while that sure is nice, what has Dean grinning is how malleable Pax is.

With each kiss, Cas lands on his body, Pax squirms, his body tuning in to feel more. His hands go up to grab Cas' chin but Cas lowers them down to his pants.

Dean walks up to Cas and Pax. The sexual energy is palpable and Pax hurriedly removes his belt. As he pulls down his zipper Dean gently strokes Pax's throat, his nails scraping down over his chest before his hand turns into a farm grasp. Judging by Pax's hard cock he enjoys having four hands on him.

Pax is breathless as he grinds against Dean's hand. “Fuck, you guys are gonna kill me.”

Dean and Cas give each other a quick look. You have no idea, Dean thinks as he removes his shirt, letting it pool on the floor.

Pax has removed his pants and underwear in record time as if the bare thought of losing either Dean's or Cas' touch is too much for him.

Dean turns his attention to Cas, leaves him to work up Pax further. “I can't wait to taste that skin of yours Cas.” He grabs the front of Cas' shirt and rips it open. Buttons fly and as they land on the floor they are accompanied by a shocked gasp.

Pax stills, a moment of shock on his face before Dean pushes him on the bed with a firm palm. “Be right with you there.”

Cas' eyes narrow slightly in anger. “You have any idea how much that – “

Dean kisses him hard, his mouth fusing with the slightly chapped lips of Cas and if Cas' slight intake of air is anything to go after, he's either angry or shocked. Both are alright in Dean's book.

“Favorite shirt, mm?”, Dean whispers against harsh breaths. Cas mumbles something but Dean is too lost to decipher the meaning. Cas kisses like he _knows_ Dean. His mouth is unyielding and his tongue coaxes forth moans from the deepest part of him. A wave of pleasure rushes over Dean and briefly, he wonders if he is the one that's gonna die tonight.

A moan makes Dean whip his head over to Pax, who has his cock in hand, slowly stroking as he watches Dean and Cas.

“Like what you see?” Dean leaves Cas, and removes the rest of his clothes swiftly. Enough with the foreplay, time to get down to business.

“Yeah, how could I not?” Pax bites his lips, a smile creasing his face.

Dean slowly crawls into bed, straddling Pax.

While Cas is mesmerizing in the way a panther is slowly stalking its prey, Pax has this innocent quality to him that Dean gravitates to; he exudes an aura that makes people want him.

Dean can hear the rustle of clothes behind him but most of his attention is focused on Pax. His cock proudly rests between them and his eyes are on Dean's face, searching for something.

“You nervous?” Dean leans in, strokes his fingers through Pax's hair.

Pax closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the caress. “I'd lie if I say I wasn't... just a little.”

“I know a way to fix that.” He pushes his thumb against Pax's lips, and as Pax flashes his eyes open, Dean shoves his thumb inside.

Pax groans against the intrusion but sucks his finger hard.

Dean feels the pull all the way to his goddamn toes. “Yeah, just like that. I can't wait to fuck you.” Pax grins against his thumb and sucks harder. Fuck, he is perfect. Speaking of perfection, Dean turns to look for Cas, but finds that he's gone.

That sensation of crawling spiders over his back never comes over him, so Dean dismisses Cas for now. He lets his thumb slip out and pushes at Pax. “Lie down, all the way.”

He envelops Pax and revels in the warmth of his body. Pax is slightly bigger than Dean but it's nothing that concerns him. On the contrary, he's looking forward to it. Images of Pax's eyes flashing open in fear, his mouth wide with shock, muscles constricting almost has Dean coming on the spot but he flexes his fingers, digs them into Pax's shoulders.

“Fuck,” Pax hisses. “You like it rough I see, but ease up a bit.”

Dean mumbles an apology and licks a path from Pax's throat to his nipple. Pax's hands are on his shoulders and back, caressing slowly as he thrusts his hips slowly upward. “Mm, every inch of skin on you is sacred. Worthy of worship.”

Pax speaks something but his words are lost in an incoherent cry as Dean takes Pax's cock in mouth.

He swirls his tongue around the head and enjoys how Pax moves underneath him, simultaneously pushing for more and pulling away as if it's too much. Dean licks down Pax's shaft, and the mix of his own spit with the taste of cock makes his own cock twitch in agreement. Dean's always enjoyed giving head and knowing what's to come adds another layer to his excitement.

As he hollows his cheeks, he feels Pax's fingers in his hair, gripping tightly. He wants to move his hips, Dean can tell by how he strains his muscles.

“Christ, you suck so – “ He cuts off as Dean pays attention to his head once more, sucking with abandon while his finger goes lower, teasing the sensitive skin below his balls.

Warm hands are on Dean's back and he stiffens for a second, ready to turn around and elbow whoever it is before realizing that's it's Cas.

Dean turns and sucks in a sharp breath. If Pax is fine wine then Cas is fucking ambrosia.

“Where've you been?”

Cas crawls into bed with them both, ignoring Dean as he grabs Pax's hand and urges him to stand on his knees. “ _Preparing_.” He winks before grabbing Pax by the hair and arching his head back.

The surety which he moves makes Dean's blood boil hot.

Cas leaves bruising kisses on Pax's chest while Dean allows his hands to roam over Pax's back, down over his ass. “Lube?”

Cas reaches over to a bedside table and tosses Dean a bottle.

Dean lubes up his cock, relishing in the slick feeling of the cold lube against his warm flesh. He's been aching for this for hours it seems and he can't wait to get inside of Pax and fuck the life out of him. He kneads Pax's cheeks before sliding his cock in between.

Pax breaths heavily, each sigh of pleasure Dean counts as a victory.

“Down on all fours,” Dean orders.

Pax obliges, hungry for more. He arches his back slightly, inviting Dean in.

Dean's eyes flick over to Cas who slowly strokes his cock.

“Open up.” Cas' voice is tinged with desire and as he arches his hips forward, Pax opens up willingly.

Dean grins and pushes a thumb inside Pax's tight hole as his eager mouth swallows around Cas.

Cas lets out a moan at the same time as Pax screams out his pleasure.

A thin sheen of sweat covers Pax's body and Dean leans in close and licks near his spine, savoring the taste of the skin. He feels the mattress dip and Cas is closer to him now, so close that he can hear the whispers as they travel to him mingled with the strangled pleasure emanating from Pax.

“Before or after?” Cas' voice is breathless but who wouldn't be with a pretty mouth like that around their cock?

“You just tell me 'when' and I'm good.”

Cas nods. “I'll remember that.” He leans in and claims Dean in a kiss that is all hunger and passion.

Dean breaks off the kiss, his thumb moving around in Pax's taint before he eases out. He wants to feel Pax around him. He lubes his cock some more, then rests his head at Pax's hole, teasing him until Pax pushes his ass back wantonly, silently begging for more.

Never being one to deny a hot guy, especially when he begs so prettily, Dean obliges. He pushes in slowly and curses as he feels the tight muscles around his cock. “Fuck, Pax, you feel fucking amazing.”

Pax grunts in reply, but it's garbled, more noises than actual words forming. Cas has his cock deep inside Pax's throat and Dean can see a thin line of spit at the side of his mouth. The glorious sight further spikes Dean's desire and he grabs Pax's hips, his fingers digging in.

He starts fucking Pax in earnest, and each thrust propels him further along his way to climax. His cock slides in and out, and his hips slap against Pax's ass. “God, you're so fucking tight.”

“Fuck me harder.” Pax arches his back for added measure and Dean notices that Cas has left his side.

“Mm, turn around.” He slips out of Pax, admires the gaping hole that tries to clench around nothing.

“Remove the covers, please” Cas states behind them.

Dean is not alone in turning towards Cas at the statement, his eyebrow arching high. He waits for an explanation but receives none.

“Off you go, Pax. We don't want covers to hide that hot body of yours.” Pax whines at the sudden pause but does as he's told. Dean removes the covers and is about to throw them on the floor when Cas shakes his head slightly.

Dean sighs and walks over to the corner. He glares at Cas, but gets a slight nod and tosses them in the corner.

Pax is still on his back, waiting and Dean makes no delay in sliding right back in. They moan in unison as Dean's cock hits that spot that sends Pax over the edge. He writhes underneath Dean, trying to get away but also grabs Dean's wrists and squeezes in a silent plea for more.

Feeling Cas' hands on his hips, and a hard cock between his ass cheeks, Dean stills. It's not really what he planned but not something he wouldn't enjoy either. Sex is sex. But he would expose his back to Cas. It's a notion that fills him with unease but it's quickly replaced, the image of Cas fucking him invades his mind instead, and he nods.

He can feel a dab of cold against his hole, and then Cas slowly pushes in. It burns a bit but it's a good fire and matches the one that's simmering in his veins.

Cas exhales in reverence. “Fuck, Dean, I've wanted to do this all night long.”

Cas' breath is a caress at the back of his neck and Dean starts fucking Pax again.

Pax's eyes are fixated on both of them, going from Dean to Cas and back again to Dean. Dean knows they're sex on legs, but would he make up his mind?

Slamming his hips hard against Pax, Dean places a hand on the sweat-slick chest of his. “Eyes on me, pretty.” He can feel Pax clench around his cock as his eyes land on Dean's face. Dean grits out a moan as Cas' cock fills him up.

Dean thinks this must be how death feels. Thrusts forward that grab you in a vice and pushes backward that impale you with certainty until you realize there is nowhere to go and you just let go and release.

It seems that is Cas' plan – to give him release – because he is relentless in pursuing that goal. There is no preamble, just his hot, sweaty body slicking against his own. The feeling of being full as Cas pounds into him and Pax underneath him, his smooth hole pulsating around his cook drags him rapidly to a crescendo. His moans mixed with the pleasured sounds of Pax and Cas' determined thrusts blends into an ecstatic symphony.

For a single moment, three becomes one. A single, breathing entity, conjoined in rapturous dance.

“You're beautiful like this, Dean and fuck, does your ass feel good.”

Dean exhales heavily, resting with those words as he feels that tightening all the way to his balls. Pax has his eyes closed in ecstasy, panting hard. He's ready, Dean can feel it in how his ass clenches around his cock, in how Pax's stomach contracts.

Dean leans in towards Pax, feels Cas' hands grab him tighter across his hips as he does. He places a strong hand on Pax's chest, lets it inch closer to Pax's throat. He caresses him slowly, places his fingers just so on the sides.

Slight pressure and Pax opens his eyes.

Dean smiles and presses harder.

Pax is relaxed, and Dean surmises that he thinks Dean is engaging in a little kink – threesomes aside. He can feel the moment Pax starts to fight in earnest, where pleasure morphs into pain. Pax's squeezes around Dean's cock hard, and it's almost enough to make Dean come. _Almost_.

He can feel Cas slip out of him but the emptiness is just a fleeting thought. All his attention is focused on Pax.

Pax starts to fight. He grabs Dean's wrists, his primal instinct to get those hands off of him but Dean ignores the burning sensation of nails against his wrists. He grins as he exhales and leans in more, presses harder.

He doesn't need to do that, it will not kill Pax faster, but he enjoys the intimacy it creates. How his body becomes the shield wrapping around Pax, how his face will be the last human he sees, how his pleasure blends with Pax's pain.

Pax's pulse slows down, a living thing writhing just underneath Dean's fingers.

Dean closes his eyes. He's so fucking close.

A loud slam registers in the back of Dean's mind but he's preoccupied.

Right _there_. Dean comes hard, his hands squeezing tighter around Pax's throat. Just as Dean can feel him slither into unconsciousness, Cas is next to him.

Cas is calm as he utters a single word. “When.”

Pax trashes back to life, a scream erupting from him as Cas stabs him in the gut.

Dean pulls away from Pax. “What the fuck, Cas? Now?! I didn't even have time to feel all of it.”

“You can always feel this.” Cas stabs Pax again, using his entire body weight as he thrusts the knife in under the ribs.

Pax tries to get up, all the while screaming but his adrenaline must be waning as Dean and Cas easily force him down on the bed again.

“Shh, shh, no use in fighting this, Pax. Just relax and soon you'll die in peace.” Cas' voice is calm as if he's explaining something to a child.

Pax blinks once, then tries to focus on Dean. “You tried – kill me – “

“Die in peace?” Dean shakes his head, his chest still heaving from the exhilaration of killing Pax, even if it hadn't been ideal. “Well, I'm glad some of us got some peace out of this whole fucking thing. His pulse under my hand, I was so close, and then you go all 'Kill Bill' on him. Talk about a mood killer.”

Red stains the sheets but Dean is busy watching Pax, purposely ignoring Cas.

Pax's eyes search Dean's for answers of some kind. Dean looks back at him calmly. “Really liked you, you had charisma, Pax. Ten out of ten. A true warlock.”

Cas looks at Dean questioningly.”A warlock?”

“What? I was a gamer back in the day.”

Pax finally stills. Or dies. The end result is still the same, he doesn't fucking move.

“I'll take care of the body, you get rid of these sheets.” Cas wastes no time in starting to eliminate the evidence of their bloody menage a trois, as he drags Pax away to what Dean assumes is the bathroom.

Dean sighs and starts removing the sheets. He laughs as he uncovers what's underneath. A plastic case that wraps around the entire bed. What the flying fuck?

“You know how expensive the mattress is?” Cas offers no further explanation.

“No, I don't and I don't fucking care.” He bundles the bloody sheets into a ball. “You have an incinerator in the basement?”

Cas arches an eyebrow that makes Dean's stomach swoop. Fuck him and his hot eyebrow-game. “I'd think soundproof bedroom walls would do. Wrap the sheets in a bag and we'll get rid of it later. Same with Pax. I'll get the razor. We need to shave his head. Tell me, want to play dentist?”

They drive forty minutes, Cas in a car that he's 'borrowed' and Dean following in Cas' car, a fucking Fiat.

The pig farm is shrouded in darkness, not even the lights are on. The sows are in for a treat. The multitude that once was Pax gets unceremoniously dumped with the pigs.

Back at Cas' place, they scrub down the walls and bathroom before finally relaxing at the kitchen table. “Next time, can we wait until I'm done, yeah?”

There is amusement in Cas' voice. “There will be a next time?”

Dean scoffs. “Don't play games, of course, there will be. You can't resist me.” And how about dinner first? I'm not some fucking savage. Woo me.”

Cas opens the fridge and tosses Dean a banana. “Next time then. For now, I can offer you this. Dinner.”

Dean wants to comment on the insanity of keeping bananas in the fridge, that's just a no, but decides it's not worth it. He peels it aggressively and takes a huge bite. It tastes like cardboard. So close to a banana but in the end, it tastes like soft chalk.

He ignores Cas as he smiles, eating his own banana.

“Want to spend the night?” Cas' question is casual, but Dean sees it for what it is. An offering of truce.

Dean takes another bite of the fruit, pretends to think. “In the murder bed?”

“No. That's the play bed. I meant in the other bed.” Cas smiles as if Dean's answer is already written on his face.

“I don't know.” There, let him stew for a few minutes.

“It has memory foam.”

Of course it has. “Fine. But the next kill is mine. And we display the body. Your way of dumping is fucking exhausting.”

Cleaning shit, and using saws, and dentistry equipment. Sooner than later the press would call him the “Tooth Fairy” and Dean could think of at least a dozen more intimidating names.

Cas just shrugs. “I've never been caught.”

“Neither have I, you dick.”

There's a smug smile creasing Cas' face. “Didn't seem to complain about my dick earlier.”

Dean contemplates killing Cas. It's just a quick thought that passes through him. His cock twitches more out of habit than any real desire. Shaking his head, Dean sighs. “Lucky for you that I find you hot. Weird... but hot.”

“Lucky me.” Cas gets up.

Memory foam, he has memory foam. It's a mantra that keeps Dean calm for now.

“You coming, Dean?”

This bedroom is smaller, the mattress sturdy and thick. Dean spots some green plants in a corner.

They settle into bed with natural ease, like they've been doing this together for years. Soon, the light vibrations of Cas' snores echo in the room. Dean sighs. The fucker did kind of murder block him in the end anyway.

There will always be a next time though. Not for Pax.

But a next time for Dean and Cas.


End file.
